Observations From a Few Biased Parties
by Tori Stone
Summary: In which betting on a certain relationship has become something like a religion.


**A note before we begin: Yvie is supposed to be pronounced "eevee" just so you know.**

**I don't own Danny Phantom.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Observations From a Few Biased Parties**

**September 15, 2013**

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Principal Yvie Ishiyama sees them in the hallway. Yvie sees Manson at her locker, absorbed in the struggle to get the appropriate books out without sending the entire stack scattering to the floor. She sees the girl growling in frustration, unable to get one book in particular out, as it has been jammed in at the wrong angle and now the only way to get it out would be to rearrange the entire locker. She sees Fenton lope forward quickly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and ignoring the angry sounds coming from his small friend in favor of wrestling her book out for her. Yvie smiles in spite of herself when the boy somehow manages to get the book out, glancing down at his friend with a quirky half-smile and handing her book over. The warning bell rings and even though the students around them are moving toward their respective classes neither one of them seems to favor moving from their current position. She bustles down the hallway, almost reluctant to break them apart, but she knows they only have about forty seconds to get to their classes and if the boy is late one more time he'll be given detention.

"Mister Fenton, Miss Manson, get to class." She said curtly. They jerk and spin around awkwardly and she tactfully pretends not to notice the faint blush coloring their faces as they hurry off toward their English class. The door is just closing as the final bell rings, and Yvie pauses there in the middle of the hallway, listening intently for the sounds of running feet, just to be greeted by utter silence. With a satisfied smile she glances down at her watch and that smile immediately falls into a frown; it's April eleventh. _Dang it_, she thinks_. I_ _owe Mister Foley twenty dollars...maybe I could bet him double for the last day of school..._

Nodding to herself in reassurance, she hurries off to her office, trying to remember which class the money holder in question was in that period.

Ned Lancer sees them in his English class, sitting side-by-side toward the back of the room. He knows that if Fenton had his way, they would both be sitting in the shadowy back corner as far away from his lecture post as possible, but Manson managed to convince him to sit a bit closer to the front, just to make them both appear less like delinquents. If he's honest with himself, Ned knows they aren't. He can't quite put his finger on it, but there's something about Fenton that pulls at his heartstrings. At least enough for him to have a little mercy when it comes to missing test and quiz grades and late assignments. Having been a teacher for more than twenty years, Ned had perfected the art of lecturing a class about one topic while thinking about something completely different, and on this day he is grateful for it. These are juniors, and this English class was supposed to teach them the art of writing various types of papers, but to be honest this was his least favorite part of the subject as a whole. He so much preferred creative writing and analyzing literature over research and analytical papers, but that part of the subject was reserved for seniors. Inwardly, he sighs, before a slight movement at the back of the room catches his attention.

He observes them interacting furtively, never missing a beat in his lecture about persuasive argument. Fenton has his right hand tangled in something Ned can't see, and it seems to be causing Manson some level of entertainment for through her exasperated glare her eyes are dancing. Fenton's gaze is fixated on the board but Ned knows the boy well enough to recognize the fact that absolutely nothing he is saying is sinking in. For a moment he considers breaking the whole interaction up and making good on his threat to completely separate the two, especially because today is April eleventh and he knows Yvie has today chosen as _the_ day, but prom is right around the corner and that's _his_ day. He is certain that Fenton is close to cracking and asking Manson to go with him, and Ned can't very well wreck his own chances just to wreck Yvie's.

So he allows them to continue pretending to listen, making a mental note to ensure Foley's notes were copious when he had his class fourth period.

Maria Sanchez sees them in the lunch room, sitting in their usual seats at each other's sides across the table from their strange little friend. She watches them over the heads of the students standing on the other side of the lunch line, distractedly scooping out whatever unidentifiable substance it was she was given earlier that morning and slapping it onto their trays. The line slows and she takes that opportunity to readjust her hairnet, shuffling in place a bit in an attempt to get a little feeling back in her feet. Even though it is her hobby to observe those two students in particular so that she can serve as a source of seemingly vital information for the teachers (they seem _far_ too interested in a couple of hormonal high school students), she allows herself to scan over the faces of the other students sitting around them, searching for one face in particular, until she spots her. Her daughter, beautiful and sweet and popular, surrounded by her friends. Paulina made it abundantly clear two years previously when she was a freshman that she did not want _anyone_ to know they were related, and while initially it stung Maria was used to the idea of it now. She merely pretended to not speak English when students tried to engage her in conversation.

A loud burst of laughter draws her attention back to her usual table. The girl is laughing, clutching her stomach and going red in the face, apparently at something her raven-haired friend has said. The boy with the red hat is also laughing, though not as loudly as the girl; in fact, it seems his laughter is mostly caused by _her_ laughter. The boy beside her seems confused, though even all the way across the cafeteria, Maria can clearly see the joy in his eyes, born simply from the pleasure of making her laugh.

Ned Lancer enters the cafeteria and she waves him over excitedly to point out this new development.

Amy Tetslaff sees them in athletics, always, _always_ together. From the moment Manson exits the girls' locker room, she sticks close to Fenton's side, and he in turn stays close to her. At first, Amy wondered whether or not they did this intentionally (she always was rather slow on the uptake) but it was quickly explained to her by one of the younger, more excitable female teachers that Fenton and Manson were little more than a ticking time bomb. It bewildered her at first, how much interest the other teachers took in those two. After all, they were just another high school couple destined to break up after a month of "dating." She knew it was customary for the teachers to pick a few students to discuss during down time in the teacher's lounge, but Fenton and Manson were spoken of like a celebrity couple. She was even more baffled to discover that they weren't even really _dating_. The other teachers tried to explain it to her, but the little moments they described the couple sharing sounded cheesy and just plain stupid.

She became a Fenson shipper the day their athletics class started their unit on football last school year. She made a rather ill-advised decision to let them play a game on the first day, loosely organizing the class into two teams, letting a few sit out instead of playing while assuring them that eventually, they would have to play too. Manson, Fenton, and Foley all chose to sit out that first game. Amy stared at them, brow furrowed, wondering for what was probably the hundredth time why her co-workers were so enamored by the young couple. She was so absorbed in them that she did not see the players running full-speed toward the sidelines. She did, however, see Baxter's hulking body come flying toward them. And then she saw Fenton yank Manson backwards, throwing his arms up protectively, shielding her from any more flying classmates. It only lasted an instant before Manson was hurling insults at Dash and Fenton was shuffling backwards, but Amy saw the raw power in Fenton's eyes, the protective stance, all made visible the moment Manson's safety was threatened.

Not an hour later she bet thirty dollars that they would be together by April twenty-third of the following year, four days before their junior prom.

Maddie Fenton sees them studying at the kitchen table. She pretends to rifle through her spice drawer for something she knows very well she does not have, eager for an excuse to watch them together. From the corner of her goggles she can see that Sam is reading intently, while Danny is struggling to look away from his friend's face. A sudden desire to squeal grips her and she has to bite down hard on her tongue to hold it in. Sam glances up from her book, momentarily meeting Danny's gaze, and he blushes and smiles and asks in a quiet murmur if she can hand him his pen (which conveniently rolled to Sam's other side). A news report draws her attention up; on the screen, a blurry black-and-white figure rushes through the shot, over a headline reading _'DANNY_ _PHANTOM: HERO OR MENACE?'_

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, only slightly aware of the fact that her son and his friend have fallen silent behind her. She shakes her head in disgust and gives up on her fruitless search, flashing a smile at her suddenly pale son and worried-looking friend. "I guess we're out of chives. I'm just gonna go run to the store, do you two need anything?" They shake their heads slowly.

She snatches her keys off the counter and makes a mental note to ask Danny about his prom plans when she gets back.

Dash Baxter sees them on the street. Fenton's hands are in his pockets, while Manson's are swinging freely at her sides. For a moment he considers crossing the street and harassing Fenton just for the hell of it, but the way Fenton is completely absorbed in his conversation with Manson stops him at the last moment. There's something there, something in his expression that fascinates Dash. He's seen it before, of course, but only once or twice and only when Manson was nearby. It always stops him in his tracks when he sees it. If he didn't know any better, he could almost say it was love. _But that's ridiculous. They're in high school, for Christ's sake! And they're not even dating! Not like me and Paulina._

If any couple at Casper High was in love, it was Dash and Paulina. Their love knew no bounds, and everyone knew it by the intense make-out sessions they shared in the hallways. _No, there was no way Fenton and Manson are in love,_ he thinks to himself. _That would be ridiculous._ Granted, it did not stop him from making a bet in Foley's pool the second he found out about it the year before. He had ten bucks on the dorks making out by the end of junior prom. He would have to wail on Fenton if that did happen, just because it would make him want (_need_) to soak his eyes in bleach, but he would make that money if it killed him.

He settles for a half-hearted, recycled insult shouted across the street before hurrying off to meet Paulina without stopping to make sure he was heard.

Paulina Sanchez sees them in the darkened movie theater. They are sitting a few rows in front of her and Dash, completely oblivious to the fact that she is there. She considered making her presence known the moment she saw them walk in, but they seemed far too lost in whatever lame conversation they were having. Manson looked serious, which annoyed Paulina. Didn't that little freak know that frown lines are the hardest to get rid of? Flawless skin like Manson's should _not_ be wasted with concerned gazes. It was something girls like Paulina coveted, and yet, Manson was just throwing it away on whatever stupid conversation she was having with her little weirdo friend.

Dash told her about Foley's bet a year earlier, and for the first five months Paulina strongly opposed his involvement in the lives of such losers. It was not until she realized just how much money was actually _in_ the pool that she decided betting five dollars on the last day of school their junior year would not be such a bad thing. She smirks into the darkness of the theater, ignoring Dash's sweaty, meaty hand grubbing through the popcorn bucket in favor of watching Danny pull the oldest, lamest trick in the book. He stretched his arms high over his head before slowly, slowly lowering his right arm down to drape over the back of Manson's seat. She is about to laugh - genuinely laugh - at the look on Manson's face as the girl glances first at Danny's fingers drumming nervously on the seat to her right before turning to read his expression. Paulina can see he is apologizing, pulling his arm away quickly, but her half-formed laughter dies in her throat when Manson grabs his hand to stop him. Her mouth falls open in shock when he wraps his arm tightly around Manson's shoulders, pulling her into his side. She can scarcely concentrate on the movie after that, because his grip around Manson's shoulders _never_ loosens.

"What's Foley's number?" She demands sharply of her boyfriend the moment the credits begin rolling.

Tucker Foley sees them at the park. They are laying on their backs in their usual place on their hill, the hill the rest of Amity Park fondly refers to as Fenson Point. He sits a good few feet behind them, leaning against the trunk of the tree at the very top of the hill; far enough that they could forget he was there, but not so far that they forget he's there. He chokes back a snort when Danny points out a shooting star, shaking his head at the ridiculous cliché. His PDA lights up, a new email received from none other than dear old Principal Ishyama. The subject line? _**Double or nothing**_. Before he can open it, he sees Sam sit up, draw her knees up to her chest, and wrap her arms around her legs. Danny, in turn, props himself up on his elbows. Sam's gaze remains on the sky above, but Danny's has turned to study her profile, illuminated in the low light. Tucker wonders if he can slip away without being noticed.

He's known from day one that his friends were going to end up together, and Danny's fleeting interest in Paulina and Valerie alike only further solidified this irrefutable fact. Every lasting couple had to face some sort of adversity, and apparently Danny didn't count perilous ghost battles as enough trouble back then. Eventually, though (with only a _little_ bit of prodding from Tucker) Danny was made to see the light. From that moment on, he was all about Sam, which pleased the goth in question greatly.

Their teachers are ridiculously invested in the couple, as they had been since their freshman year. Tucker took advantage of it immediately, setting up a pool of bets about the couple that quickly spread around the school. He guessed their fascination came from the sheer protectiveness Danny displayed over Sam. It was not so much that he acted as though he had ownership over her; couples like that did nothing more than momentarily distract the teachers from Fenson. Tucker wants to think they pin in on Danny's jealousy, but of course he knows better than this. However, he is content to allow them to continue unintentionally exaggerating Danny's level of jealousy, not particularly partial to recalling the countless times Danny shielded Sam from viscious physical attacks from his enemies. He is happy to pretend that his best friend is just incredibly jealous and to actively participate in epic, heated debates about the greatest mystery of their lifetime: when will Fenson _finally_ happen? Five hundred of his hard-earned dollars say junior prom.

With a silent smirk, Tucker tears his gaze away from his friends to read Ishyama's email.

Sam Manson quickly adjusted to the amount of people who simply watched her when she was in public. At first, it confused her, but now she can function well around it. She deftly pretends not to notice classmates and teachers alike watching her in the hallways, their gazes all the more intense whenever Danny is with her. Danny seems oblivious to it all and Sam is content to let him stay that way: the day he notices how closely they are watched, her little game would end. And she was having so much fun playing her little game.

However, allowing everyone to observe her often took its toll, and tonight was no exception. It started early that morning with Principal Ishyama, Lancer leering at them from the front of the classroom, that one cafeteria worker who looked oddly familiar drilling holes through their skulls, coach Tetslaff in athletics, Danny's mom right after school, Paulina and Dash, and worst of all, Tucker. She smirks a little at the thought of Tucker, who is at that moment probably at home, organizing bets on her and Danny for prom. Oh, how angry he would be the moment he discovered her secret.

The clock reads midnight exactly when she feels _him_ enter her room. Before she can stop herself she crawls to the foot of her bed, pushes herself up to her knees, and wraps her arms around Danny's neck just as he fades into visibility. They kiss without wasting any time and she giggles at the sensation of those two rings of light flashing over her skin as he transforms from her hero to her best friend. _Boyfriend_, she corrects herself as he crawls onto her bed and pushes her backwards, grunting slightly as he falls with her, lips never leaving hers. He pulls away a moment later, blue eyes dancing, face flushed and breathless, and she runs her fingers through his hair. Her smile widens as he makes a noise of approval.

"I was thinking...we should wait to tell Tucker until _after_ prom." Sam says quietly, lightly scratching the nape of his neck the way she knows he likes it. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted, his face that of sheer happiness, but his eyelids flutter open at her words.

"Why?" He asks uncertainly.

"I just...I like this. I like keeping it a secret." She murmurs, shrugging slightly. "I don't want anyone to know yet."

"Well...okay," Danny caves almost instantly, just like she knew he would. He never could say no to her; not since she found his weak spot. "I can tell him we're going together, right?"

She pauses, trying to remember from the spreadsheet she found two months earlier on Tucker's laptop who placed bets for prom. Briefly she tried to imagine what his face would look like upon realizing they were already dating three weeks before she even found the spreadsheet. "Um...yeah," She says finally. That'd be fine."

"Cool," He mutters, pulling himself up so that he is hovering over her. He kisses her deeply, smirking slightly at the little gasp that made her chest jerk against his. "How much are you making by waiting until after prom?" He asks a second later.

"What-? How did you -"

"I'm not as clueless as I used to be," He shrugs.

And she laughs, thankful that _no one_ is there to see the brilliant blush coloring her face.

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**Yeah so...there ya go.**

**Wide Awake is in the works, keep an eye on it.**

**Hmmmmkay (:**

**- Tori**


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